


Broken Wings

by Elizabeth_Barton



Series: Shadow Wings [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alive Phil Coulson, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers Family, Clint Barton-centric, Clint Has Issues, Crying, F/M, Friendship, Guilt, Protective Avengers, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Older Brothers, Sick Clint Barton, Ticklish Clint Barton, worried Natasha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth_Barton/pseuds/Elizabeth_Barton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After four months of working with the Avengers, Clint finally has the time to feel bad about his actions on the Chitauri invassion. Natasha fears for his well beign. But with a twisted family like the one living on Stark Tower, it may still be hope to talk the archer out of the guilt before its to late. </p>
<p>Post-Movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Wings

He was lying down, his back against the soft mattress and his sharp, gray-blue eyes facing the ceiling. A tennis ball bouncing up and down on his left hand with skilled movements, sometimes hitting the ceiling, sometimes the walls, but every time it always returned to his open palm. His brow was furrowed in a blank but concentrate expression, all his focus on the ball in his hand and the next target to hit.

It had been over two months since Loki's attack on New York; since he'd been freed from the God's mind control, and Clint was doing as well as could be expected. Given the situation, he was facing his actions from that same attack rather well...

Or so he had at the beginning.

Actually, after the first two to three weeks he had become very fond of the other Avengers, especially Stark, probably because they both had the same sort of dark humor, they were way too chatty and loved to annoy the crap out of other people. They also both fit into the lone wolf's persona. Clint was always eager to join in on the man's jokes and pranks, but lately he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He had tried to make a small friendship with their _'fearsome leader'_ : Captain America. Since the first week they arrived at Stark Tower, now renamed The Avengers Tower. Clint had fought hard to gain the trust of Rogers. The man was a legend and the archer knew he could learn much from him, but something inside him was still fighting against his will and in the last month he had spent in the Avengers Tower, he had started to move backwards in his healing process. He ended up locked in his room or making an escape to the roof where no one could find him.

He even started to leave Natasha out of his life.

But today was worse than all the others days, because the red-haired assassin had departed from NY early in the morning for a mission, to who knows where, and Tony had been kind enough, mostly forced, to offer his most needed services to the spy. Bruce had also gone to take on some unfinished business he had left in Calcutta but had promised to return in about four to five days; leaving only the super soldier and the agent alone in the Tower since Thor had left again for Asgard and had yet to return.

So far Steve was the only one of the Avengers trying to cheer the archer up -besides Natasha-, with little success, and he was most definitely going to use this little time they had alone to fulfill his self-appointed mission.

"Hey Barton, are you still in there?"

Since before his lock out, the team had become accustomed to calling each other by nicknames or last names, in Clint's case he was known as Barton or Hawk mainly, Tony had built a list of nicknames specially for him, all proudly hang on the top of the fridge for free use.

"Barton?"

Again, Steve didn't receive an answer. This little game of silence had been going on five to seven times already and still the super soldier was refusing to give up, he had promised Natasha he would try to get their archer back to the way he used to be a month ago, and he was going to, even if it took him a lifetime to do it.

"I'm coming in now."

The door opened slowly. Steve knew about Clint's sudden change of mood and was almost expecting to be impaled by an arrow to the heart, which, by how Natasha describes their sniper friend, may be possible. Thankfully no arrow came flying toward him since the younger man seemed to still be distracted by the ball in his hand. He didn't even glance over at him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure Cap?" Clint's tone came out cold and a bit uncalled for, making Steve frown, not with anger but with concern, they had been doing great on Clint's recovery after Loki, they even had managed to convince him to take a couple of therapy sessions with SHIELD doctors and after that he had seemed fine, kicking butt and taking names, but now it all seemed like it had gone to hell and no one could be sure what had triggered this reversal process. Steve wondered how much time their friend really needed to heal all the wounds Loki left behind. He was sure that if they didn't find an answer soon, Clint would eventually break down, bringing the whole team with him, starting with Natasha.

"Uhm… I thought it would be good for us to do some team bonding exercise, we can do whatever you want, Stark left all the areas open for us. We can spar if you like?"

"I only spar with Natasha"

"You and Romanoff are not alone anymore. You need to get out of your room Barton, this isn't healthy," The captain pointed out, sitting at the edge of the bed. He knew how much the agent hated being touched outside of his partner or because medical required, but still he took the chance, placing a hand on the younger man's arm, he didn't notice his fingers brushing Clint's rib cage, until the man jerked away holding a yelp inside him and Steve jumped to his feet. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

Clint regained his composure very fast, still keeping a good distance between him and the other man; he shook his head standing up from the bed on the opposite side of the Captain.

"Let's just go grab something to eat okay? Dinner sounds like a good bonding exercise." Clint offered a fake smile, putting the forgotten ball on the desk, while making his way out of the room. "Coming Cap?"

"Yes."

As Steve was following the archer out of the room, minding to keep a couple of steps behind the man, he couldn't help to continue on thinking about the reaction Barton had to his touch, the idea still burning in his skull. Clint had just dismissed it like it was nothing, but it had looked like something, maybe not overly important, but something to keep in mind; and it burned Steve to think that maybe Clint was hiding something from him and injury perhaps? Did he got hurt on their last mission? Steve couldn’t recall and he hoped it hadn’t been him causing harm to the archer, is not like he used that much strength. Did he? He was just trying to be friendly... Clint said he hadn't hurt him. Then why did Clint react that way? ...Unless, unless he didn't hurt Clint but had caused a different feeling than pain, a feeling Steve never though the agent would have. Clint was a trained assassin, a master actually, that sort of things shouldn't affect him.

He wanted to test his new theory, coming closer to Barton; he poked the man in his side just below his rib cage making a similar reaction to occur, the archer jerking away with a startled gasp this time and a hint of anger behind it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Snarled Clint, turning to face Steve. The joyful look on the soldier making him freeze for a second. That familiar challenging and devilish look, only three other people wore it when they were about to…oh hell no, the others will not do the same to him, not on his watch. "Rogers, whatever you are thinking, it's not what it looks like and it's not going to happen, so you better start forgetting about it."

"So Hawkeye has a weakness."

"I **don't** have a weakness." He was playing his ' _I am dangerous, don't mess with me'_ card in the hopes that the Captain would step back. Instead, Steve just brushed all his fingers together onto Clint's side while the archer was busy trying to regain control over himself. Clint stumbled against the wall holding back the giggle that wanted to break free. "Stop doing that, damn it!"

Steve chuckled mockingly, much to Clint's annoyance. Maybe he had found his way to lift Barton's mood, just for a couple of minutes, maybe more. He wasn't the type of guy, who did this kind of thing, but he could place the blame on Tony, the man was a very bad influence on each and every one of the team members.

Without a warning Steve tackled Clint, both letting out grunts as their bodies collide to the ground and they were immediately engaged wrestling with each other: one trying to get away, the other one trying to hold his companion down.

"I swear Rogers; if you don't let me go you're going to regret it!" Clint was strong and a skilled agent; but Steve had been trained in a much harder environment and have more strength that the archer. It wasn't long before he had Clint's legs pinned with his knees and the archer hands trapped over his head with his left hand. Clint felt like some animal cornered by the lights of a car, waiting for the imminent crash and his fear doubled when the fingers of Steve's right hand buried deeply in the vulnerable hollow of his armpit.

The archer bit down on his lip, breathing harshly through his nose, trying his hardest to keep himself from breaking under the other Avenger will. No way was he going to give him what he wanted, he was a trained assassin for god sake, he wasn't going to be taken down by some lame tickle torture.

The fingers move faster and dug harder on his exposed armpit, a knot was forming on his throat already and even through clenched teeth, snorts escaped his control. He tried to jerk his body away but the Captain's grip was stronger than his.

"Come on Hawk, just let go and laugh, you know you can't hold it forever."

It was a true, the archer didn't want to face; but Steve was right, he could already feel the bigger laugh coming up his throat fighting against the knot, he unwillingly let out a whimper against the taunting and closed his eyes to focus on something else.

The Captain noticed the change on the agent. Clint was good at ignoring his body at times and he knew the archer was working on doing just that while Steve desperately tried to force him to acknowledge it, just for this time. Clint had been trained in the many ways of torture and Steve was sure that detaching himself from the situation was the favorite method of the archer. It was the most efficient one.

Clint shook his head from side to side trying to clear his mind from the fingers torturing his body. It wasn't enough when the fingers moved down to his belly, taking away the fabric of his shirt to expose the tan and well- built stomach; fingers scrabbling and wriggling frantically in this new sensitive spot. The smile broke free and traitorous laugher filled the air, it was all Steve needed to succeed.

"No Stop!" Clint buckled with uncontrollable laughter. Still unable to get out of the captain's grasp, his eyes closed tightly to hold in the tears building up; his face was red with the effort it took to laugh and each breath burned his lungs.

"ENOUGH!" Clint squirmed and twisted, his laughter drowning in his friend's ears. "STOOOP! LET GO!"

"Will you stop been a depressive ass or whatever Stark said you were and try to have more fun with us?" Steve taunted, moving his fingers more from side to side of the exposed stomach of the archer, Clint eyes open up suddenly and he shriek into a new fit of laughter. The soldier had just brushed his fingers near his navel causing a new scream to rip out the archer.

"Looks like I found an even weaker spot."

"Not there, please! Nooooo" The bound agent bucked up and down a bit while laughing his head off, his cheeks already marked with small tear trails from laughing. “STEVE, NO! I CAN’T TAKE IT!”

Steve smirked at this, giving the fact that the archer just gave fake laughs and a couple of chuckles from time to time, and sometimes they were smiles and smirks that Natasha had sworn were honest, it felt so good to hear Clint laugh, actually laugh, even if it was provoked by him.

"Promise me you will try and I let you go," Steve said, changing his hands to work again on Barton's armpits, Clint thrashed furiously, throwing as much of his weight as his laughter would allow into the motion as he tried to dislodge the Captain from his seat. Steve simply shifted his body along with him no relenting on the torture one bit.

"NO MORE!"

Steve fingers brushed along the rim of his navel and he swirled it around a few times. Clint's eyes bulged at this and his screams went higher up.

"GET OFF ME NOW!" His body arched forward only coming in more contact with the hand torturing his body but he couldn't help it, his strength was faltering with the more time he spend under his torturer movements and the four nights without sleep where catching up on him fast, he couldn't blame anyone but himself for his predicament.

Steve shoved his fingers into the man hipbones, Clint screamed in protest but his pleas went on deaf ears as laughter broke free again.

"Rogers let me go!" He had no choice but to throw his head back and laugh uncontrollably, Clint attempt to curled up in a ball to escape Steve's fingers, this only cause the soldier to change tactics by attacking all his weak spots at the same time moving from one to another in rapid succession, by the time he changed, Clint was exposing true rivers of tears.

"PLEASE STOP. I'LL TRY, I SWEAR!"

Steve stopped, giving Clint a breather. Oxygen was what the archer needed at this point; Barton was breathing harshly and his face was returning slowly to his natural color, a thin layer of sweat covered his body and the flush on his cheeks was disappearing slowly. He had his eyes closed again as the fight with the sensation of the tickle still left in his body, a big smile on his face.

Steve sat on the floor beside the archer, a smile also adorning his face, he was familiar with the emotion irradiating from Barton's body, the feeling that everything was going to be okay from now on, the Captain was certain that the walls Clint had built over the last month where finally beginning to come down.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Steve pointed out, looking down at the archer.

Clint simply let his body go limp on the floor panting and moaning every time he took a deep breath. His lungs were overworked, legs and arms sore from the trashing and his head was spinning slightly but overall he wasn’t feeling as bad as before.

"Hey Barton, you okay?"

The agent nodded wearily looking at Steve with a friendly stare before letting his eyes drifted close one last time.

"Thanks, Cap."

Steve was confused by the sudden words, but didn't have time to ask the archer what he meant by that, because Clint had finally given himself into the darkness, letting blessed sleep take him over. A smile crept into Rogers face knowing that when Clint woke up, he would be better, because there was something Loki couldn't take away from him: his ability to laugh with his friends.


End file.
